the wishes and the granting
by shafilaschtein
Summary: Jean could never say no to Mikasa, except for one thing. [based on Jean's reverie in chapter 127]


Attack on Titan by Hajime Isayama. I don't take any material advantage by writing this story. I wrote this because of my love for JeanKasa fully ❤

Based on Jean's reverie in chapter 127.

Warning: Grammatical errors

* * *

**i. Jean could never say no to Mikasa.**

Today is the exact two weeks after Jean proposed to Mikasa. Mikasa asks him to talk. Her eyes look so serious, but Jean could catch an agitation in them. The agitation resonates with the inside of him in a different form. He is afraid Mikasa is going to cancel her agreement to his marriage proposal.

"Jean." Mikasa is silent for a while although Jean already responded to her with a hum. He clenches his fist tightly under the table of the restaurant. He sips his wine as an act of distraction. "I can't change my last name."

Jean almost spurts the wine inside his mouth. His agitation changes into deep distress immediately. He catches her implicit message.

"You don't want to marry me?" he says with a feeling that his throat is throttled. His voice sounds like a croak.

Mikasa snorts and shakes her head. "It's not like that," she says calmly. Jean expels his breath with relief and pulls her hand under the table. He holds it tightly as if afraid that she would disappear right here right now. "I just can't change my last name. I don't change …" red tints her face, "my agreement to your marriage proposal."

Jean often dreams about Mikasa Ackerman changes into Mikasa Kirschtein. He repeats the name inside his head more often after Mikasa said yes when he asked her to marry him. A smile and tickles inside his chest always appear every time he thinks about it. Because of that, he couldn't hold a frown to show on his face.

"Why? You think my last name is embarrassing?"

"It's not like that." Mikasa holds his hand back and caresses it using her thumb. He is calmed a little. "I'm the only Ackerman left besides Captain Levi. Captain Levi doesn't want to use that name as his written identity. Recalling the history of the Ackermans, I feel uncomfortable if I leave the name behind. I just want to show that Ackerman is still here."

Jean lies if he says that he isn't disappointed. The Mikasa Kirschtein name slowly fades from his head. But, he looks at her face—the face of the woman he has loved for more than ten years—that's full of hesitancy and she seems to feel bad, but there's a hint of hope in her eyes. He says nothing for a while and considers her request. Once again, he sips his wine as a distraction.

"Jean?" Mikasa calls. He can catch that her voice is filled with her feeling bad. "Can I keep my surname?"

He knows if he stays silent for a little longer, Mikasa will start making assumptions about his answer inside her head. He closes his eyes and swallows one full gulp of wine until he can feel a slight burn past his esophagus. His gaze is directed to her eyes and he has known what his answer would be.

"Alright. I understand." He exhales a long breath and strokes her hand back. His lips curve a convincing smile. "It's okay, Mikasa. You can keep your surname."

Mikasa smiles with relief. The smile fades half of his disappointment. "Thank you." She stares at her glass of wine. He catches her gaze is moving to her right hand that's always bandaged to cover a notable symbol which is hereditary from her mother's family. Her eyes widen. She looks at him with enthusiasm that she rarely shows. Her expression is decorated with a sweet red on her cheeks. "I think … Mikasa … Ki-Kirschtein-Ackerman is okay?"

His blood is flowing quickly inside his chest. He grins until his eyes are slanted even more. "What's that? Say it again," he teases.

Mikasa still blushes. She rolls her eyes and sulks. "You heard me."

Jean chuckles. "Yeah. It's okay. Anything you want, Mikasa. As long as you're happy."

She smiles widely. That smile is the same smile that he silently noticed showing on her face on their very first time seeing the ocean. His disappointment fades wholly.

"Thank you, Jean," she says softly.

If no table separates them, he will kiss her forehead right here right now. Since he can't do that, he only responds to her with a genuine smile.

"Anything for you."

…

**ii. Jean could never say no to Mikasa.**

Sometimes Jean still questions his decision to be a soldier. Heavy tasks and works weigh every soldiers' shoulder no matter what branch they're in. What he has been through right now is not even close to his dream because there was something that distracted his choice and he thought there was an aim he wanted to achieve. He recalls he dreamed to be in The Military Police, but he ended up in the choice that he cussed a lot, The Survey Corps.

He glances at Mikasa when they enter the house they share together. His wife looks as tired as him. Without saying anything, they both head to the main bedroom. Jean lays on the bed even before he took off his shoes because the level of his tiredness is really high. He is on his stomach. His right cheek presses the pillow. He closes his eyes.

A tweak on his ear from Mikasa makes him groan. His eyes are open and he moves to sit. "Mikasa!"

"Take a bath first," Mikasa commands. Her eyes stare at him sharply. "You haven't even taken off your shoes."

Jean exhales hardly. He messes his hair. "But—"

"No sleep before taking a bath." Mikasa releases her tweak and folds her hands in front of her chest. Her command sounds absolute in his ears. Her stare is still sharp.

Jean expels a long breath. He stretches his arms and strokes his face. "Alright," he says in surrender. He takes off his shoes and leaves them on the side of the bed.

Mikasa tweaks his ear again. "Put your shoes on where they supposed to be."

He groans until she releases her tweak. He tidies up his shoes before obeying his wife's first command. "You sound like my mom," he says lowly. He knows Mikasa hears him, but she doesn't give him any response.

…

**iii. Jean could never say no to Mikasa.**

The air that feels colder tells Jean that Mikasa already left their bed. He touches the space where Mikasa is supposed to be on, the trail of her body heat has been gone. Mikasa has been awake for a while.

Jean heads out from his room after folding the blanket and tidying the sheet. He washes his face before looking for Mikasa's existence. His wife is nowhere to be found from every corner of their house. He scans the shoe rack and realizes that one of Mikasa's shoes has been gone from there. He concludes that his wife is doing grocery shopping.

His stomach growls because it needs to be filled. He opens the cupboard in the kitchen, the refrigerator, glances at their dining table and doesn't find any served meal except a piece of cheesecake in the refrigerator. He understands why Mikasa went grocery shopping so early.

The cheesecake is being the only solution to soothe his growling stomach and he decides to eat it. He puts the dirty dishes in the sink. Mikasa is home a few minutes after that. He helps his wife to sort and put the groceries that she bought to the cupboard.

Mikasa freezes when she opens the refrigerator. "Jean," she calls with a sharp tone. Goosebump hits Jean's body.

"What is it, honey?" Jean responds softly as his way to soothe any of his act that disturbs his wife.

"Where's my cheesecake?"

"Ah," Jean frowns and is bitten by guilt, "I just ate it. I was hungry. I'm sorry, Mikasa."

Mikasa left the paper bag that contained with groceries on the floor and takes some steps quickly to their bedroom. She slams the door hardly. Jean is shocked. He realizes that Mikasa is getting more sensitive these days, but her act right now really surprises him. Mikasa seemed very upset just because he ate her cheesecake.

Jean immediately heads to their bedroom. He twists the doorknob but the door couldn't be opened. Mikasa locked it from the inside. He knocks the door softly. "Mikasa? Honey?" he calls with worry.

There is no answer.

Jean knocks the door harder over and over but he still receives nothing. He tries to turn the doorknob in frustration. He thinks about smashing the door, but imagining Mikasa would be more upset encages his intention.

His tiredness and frustration are getting thicker. This is a Sunday morning, they suppose to be chilling. But, the first thing that he faced this morning is something insignificant that is being exaggerated. He strokes his face and surrenders. He walks to the sofa and sits on it. He remembers the groceries inside the paper bag that Mikasa left on the floor. The remembrance makes him rise and continues what his wife didn't finish.

The sound of their bedroom being opened echoes when Jean is about to lay on the sofa. He waits until Mikasa walks out, but any hint for it doesn't come. Jean rises and walks to their bedroom. Mikasa is sitting on the edge of the bed. She frowns. Jean situates himself right beside her. He strokes his wife's long hair.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Mikasa doesn't give him a single answer. Guilt and shock attack Jean again at the same time when she starts crying. He hugs her immediately, expecting his wife would deny his touch, but she leans her head to his chest instead.

"You ate my cheesecake," she sobs. "You ate my cheesecake while I was doing grocery shopping for your breakfast and I'm tired because of that."

Jean tries to control his breathing. He almost let out an amused snort but feel annoyed at the same time. But he stays embracing her and lets her overflow her emotion. He kisses her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Compensate it," Mikasa says with an authoritative tone after her tears stop dropping. She pushes Jean until his hug is released from her. "Compensate my cake. Compensate it to four pieces."

Jean couldn't hold his chuckles this time. "But I only eat one, my dear." He stretches his hands to embrace Mikasa again but she slaps them until he groans.

"Don't touch me until you compensate my cake to four pieces." She stands up. She throws a sharp gaze to him. "And. Don't. Laugh. At. Me."

Jean presses his lips together to swallow his laugh. "Alright. I'll buy them later."

"Now," she commands strictly.

"But it's still ear—"

"Now!"

Jean is startled when he hears the vibration in her tone. Her eyes are glassy with water about to drop. He hugs her right away and she doesn't reject it. She cries again.

"Shh. Alright, alright, darling. I'll buy them now, okay?" he whispers although he is actually irked. He caresses her hair and kisses her forehead. "Just wait."

He drops his embrace and turns his body towards the door. Mikasa holds his arm. "Don't take too long," she says with a spoiled tone that surprises him.

He smiles genuinely. "Okay."

He promptly gets out of their house and heads to the nearest cake shop. The shop just set their "open" sign when he arrives there. He buys what Mikasa asked, four pieces of cheesecake. The cakes still feel cold inside the paper bag when he steps on his house. Mikasa is already waiting for him in the kitchen. He puts the paper bag on the table then fetches a plate and a fork. He sets everything for his wife that still frowns.

The four pieces of cheesecake are eaten in such a short time. Jean expresses his amused smile looking at how well his wife eats and how the light in her eyes is getting brighter and brighter from one scoop to another. She beams at him after swallowing a glass of water. She gets up from her seat and kisses his cheek.

"Thank you, Jean," she says softly. "I love you."

He feels something tickles his chest. He pulls Mikasa to sit on his lap and kisses her lips. The taste of the cheesecake she ate still lingers and he savors it.

…

**iv. Jean could never say no to Mikasa.**

Mikasa has been so clingy to Jean lately. He knows one of the reasons behind that is the existence of a soul from their love inside her womb. Now he also knows that it has been happening when she was overreacting over her piece of cheesecake he ate.

They are just done having supper. Mikasa listens to the radio before entering their bedroom to sit on the closest location with Jean's work desk. He is working on some files to fulfill his responsibility as a commander.

"Jean." Mikasa is pulling on his t-shirt as a gesture to ask him to accompany her on the bed.

He chuckles. "Wait a minute. I'm working, Mikasa."

Mikasa sulks. He is surprised but smiles all along when she stands behind him and circles her arms around his neck. Her chin sticks to his head. Her hands block his point of view to the files on the desk. He holds her hands softly and moves them so he can see his works. She moves her hands to the position before.

"Jean. You can work on them later. Sleep with me," Mikasa says right behind his ear. He shudders. He loses his grip on the pen when she starts kissing his nape. The hands that she used to circle his neck before are pulling on his t-shirt until it pasts his head and off of him. He turns his head to the back and she kisses his lips right away. He pulls Mikasa until she is sitting on his lap. When their kisses are getting deeper, he carries Mikasa and lays her down on the bed.

They make love and Jean forgets about his works whilst he is doing it. He just remembers them when they are done. Mikasa makes his arm as her pillow. He strokes her forehead that shines because of sweats using his right hand.

"Mikasa, raise your head a little," he whispers with his husky voice.

Instead of complying with Jean's request, Mikasa cuddles him. "Where do you want to go?"

Jean chuckles. "I haven't done my works yet."

Her embrace is getting tighter. The skin to skin contact between their bodies makes him groan.

"Can you at least wait until I fall asleep?" asks Mikasa. Her spoiled tone makes him want to bite her cheek because she is so cute.

He estimates that he will have to stay up late until predawn if he fulfills his wife's wish. Still and all, his response is still a smile that he presses to her forehead. He cups her face and looks straight into her eyes. "Anything for you, my love."

…

**v. Jean could never say no to Mikasa.**

There is only a week before Mikasa's maternity leave is over when she suddenly tells Jean, "I want to quit from the military."

Jean, with his roles as her husband and commander, is really shocked after hearing her words. He asks Mikasa to sit. She still carries their son, Marco, who has stopped crying and finally falls asleep in his mom's embrace.

"Why? You are the strongest soldier, Mikasa."

Marco's cry breaks their conversation. She stands again and pats on her son's back. The seven weeks baby won't stop crying although she already tried any way she could. Jean rises, takes him from his mother's hand, whispers hisses to his ear, and moves his body to the right and left to calm their son. His hard to be stopped loud cry finally turns into sweet laughs that make his parents anesthetized until they almost forget about their conversation topics.

Mikasa is the first person who is conscious of their son's power. She stares at him again. Even though her face seems conflicted about things he doesn't know, she also looks at him and their son affectionately.

"That's why," she says while turning her gaze fully to Marco. "I want to take care of Marco myself, Jean. I don't want any stranger to look after him."

Jean glances at Marco's back. His son has already fallen asleep on his shoulder. He still moves his body as his effort to prevent his cry.

"My mother can take care of him while we're working," Jean offers.

"Trost is too far from here. It must be hard for Marco to travel a long way every day. I have thought about that."

Jean presses his cheek to Marco's head for a while. He kisses his son affectionately. His black hair that was inherited from his mom also has the same softness. He takes a deep breath. Mikasa's scent is inhaled from his son. His chest is full of love. He stays silent and hasn't given any response to Mikasa's words.

"Jean?" Mikasa calls. "As my husband and commander, would you allow me to stop being a soldier?"

Jean is finally aware of their conversation. Their son, the proof of their love, is so cute that he can be his biggest distraction from concentration. He thinks about his offer. They live in the central district, obviously so far from Trost. He stares at Mikasa for a while. Considerations are spinning inside his head. She looks at him with hope and sincerity in her eyes.

"As your commander, I don't feel good to lose a soldier as strong as you, Mikasa." He pauses. His chest feels heavy seeing the disappointment on her face. "But as your commander and your husband, _especially your husband,_ I grant your wish."

Mikasa smiles. Her disappointment is fading. He hands Marco to her when she stretches her arms to hold their son again. She kisses Marco's temple in long duration and closes her eyes. The view makes Jean feel touched.

"I grant your wish as long as you won't regret it because you have fought this far, Mikasa."

Mikasa shakes her head. "My family is what matters the most."

Jean hugs Mikasa carefully without pinning Marco. He kisses her forehead and the back of his son's head affectionately. "Thank you," he whispers while pressing his forehead to hers.

"I'm the one who should say thank you," Mikasa responds. "Thank you for giving me your grant."

"Don't mention it. Anything that you think is the best, Mikasa. Anything as long as you're happy."

She tiptoes to kiss his lips. She pulls back and stares at her husband. "I think I want to do some gardening to fill my spare time just like what my mom did. Is it okay if I use our backyard for that?"

Jean cups her face. "Yeah. Just use it, honey." He is happy that his wife really, really thinks for herself again.

His chest is filled with love when Mikasa leans her head to his shoulder and kisses his neck.

…

**i. Jean could never say no to Mikasa—**

Niccolo often sends him the finest wine. Jean keeps the bottles of wine inside a cupboard in the kitchen. At first, he only drinks it at night or on special occasions like his birthday, Mikasa's, Marco's, or their anniversary. What Niccolo said the finest wine is really the finest wine until sometimes Jean drinks it in the morning when Mikasa is still asleep or at noon when she is gardening.

The first time Mikasa catches him drinking the wine in the morning, he receives a tweak on his ear from his wife. "It's still early! You shouldn't drink the wine in the morning!"

Jean complies with what Mikasa said after that, but sometimes still sneaks up to sip the wine aside from the night. It is the nth time he sneaks up right behind Mikasa's back, and she catches him again. Her responses are still the same. She is upset and snaps at him although this time she doesn't give him a tweak.

"I always listen and grant your wishes, Mikasa. Please give me your permission for this one," Jean pleads.

Mikasa doesn't answer. The nights after that, she doesn't allow him to sleep with her. The sofa is the only solution for him. He sleeps there without a pillow and a blanket. The sofa is not enough to facilitate his tall body. Discomfort attacks him for seven nights.

In the middle of it, Jean keeps drinking his wine in the morning and after lunch on his day off. Mikasa doesn't say anything to him, but she always throws a sharp glance. At one night, Jean feels his cheek is being patted softly. He hears Mikasa call his name in the middle of his sleep on the sofa. He opens his folding arms and embraces his wife right away. He says nothing and waits until Mikasa utters her purpose of waking him up.

"Jean," Mikasa calls him again. She moves her body to pull herself from her husband's embrace. Her hand strokes his head softly. "Sleep in the bedroom. With me."

Jean smiles although his eyes still feel heavy. He nods silently. Mikasa holds his hand on their way to the bedroom as if guiding him. He cuddles his wife in his sleep tightly because he misses this moment for a long time. He can feel Mikasa do the same.

In the morning, Jean takes a gulp of wine again even before his stomach is filled with any breakfast. Mikasa glances at him, but totally ignores what he does. He concludes that Mikasa is finally okay with that habit of his. Even if Mikasa minds that, he doesn't want to take any complaint from anyone about this, although if it comes from his beloved wife.

—**except for her request that asks him to stop drinking the wine aside from the night.**


End file.
